Putting My Lessons To Work
In the middle of a work shift last week, I got a ping that I had a new email. To my surprise and delight, it was from a breeder in Wisconsin who my parents, friends, and I had vetted, saying that she had a litter of 3-week-old puppies I could choose from.
I immediately went on my lunch break, called my parents, and by the time my shift was over, I had signed a contract for the runt of the litter, a black and white spotted French bulldog puppy who looks like a miniature cow and completely captured my heart.
From that day onward, even though I know it was incredibly lucky to find a reputable breeder with a puppy ready to go home just 36 days after I first heard of her, I’ve found the wait nearly intolerable. I’ve bought all of the supplies she’ll need, given her a name from Lord of the Rings, and cross-stitched a picture to go above her food bowls. My whiteboard at home has a countdown to the big day and a paper chain and every morning, the first thing I do is change the number on the board and rip off a link from the paper chain.
As you can probably tell, I’m extremely excited about the puppy and have such an incredibly hard time waiting for the big day. I’ve been antsy and energetic, overplanning everything, and finding it incredibly hard to sit still when I think of the wonderful adventure that awaits me when I pick up the puppy. And knowing the way I think, I knew pretty quickly that my thoughts of this little puppy I haven’t even met yet were obsessive in nature, but since they were a positive obsession, I didn’t see any problem with indulging myself.
A few days later, I was having yet another conversation about puppy planning when a friend confessed to me that she was having a very hard time emotionally. Instantly, I felt terrible, and tried to shift the spotlight so she could talk about what she was feeling. But instead, she apologized to me for not being excited enough about the puppy.
I was reminded of a habit I had for many years that was extremely hard to shake and still catches up with me sometimes nowadays - when I get overly interested in something, I find it very easy to forget that other people have their own lives, interests, and goals that may coincide with mine, but don’t necessarily, and they don’t want to hear about mine constantly. In other words, just because I’ve learned to accept my positive obsessions doesn’t mean I need to force them on others.
When I was little, my therapist explained to me that a conversation was like tennis - in order for both people to enjoy it, we had to take turns speaking (metaphorically, hitting the ball back and forth). What she didn’t add and I later figured out on my own was that my conversation partner also had to be interested in tennis - or conversation about the matter at hand - to be an equal player.
In the beginning of this process, all of my friends and family have been very excited for me, supportive of my excitement, and curious to see pictures of the puppy and learn about the preparations I’ve made. But as time goes on, and more things happen in other people’s lives, my news will fade to the back burner for many people, and I don’t want to “hog the ball,” as my therapist used to say, by talking only about the one thing that will be consuming my interest for the next 31 days as of the time of writing this post.
I’ve tried to be more conscious in the last couple of days to make sure to ask about other people first, to always make sure to give them a chance to pick the topic of conversation, and when they do ask about the puppy, I respond to their questions and try not to ramble. I can’t say I’m perfect at it, and I can’t say it won’t get exponentially harder as my paper chain gets shorter and the big day approaches, but I’ve worked so hard over the years to play tennis fairly, as my therapist would say, and not overwhelm my friends and family.
In the meantime, I’m filling up my time by meeting goals like taking an hour-long walk each day, reading the four new books I have on my shelf before the puppy arrives, and potentially doing National Novel Writing Month in October instead of November this year to put my excess energy to use and make the waiting easier. I’m getting as far ahead as I can at work, cleaning and preparing my apartment, and shopping for things that will help this little cow-spotted puppy be as spoiled and loved as possible.
Towards the end of October, when I do take her home, I will surely be excited to share every moment. I also hope I’ll be able to use my “tennis” practice I’ll do in the next month to ensure that my relationships with friends and family remain healthy even when my home - and my heart - has grown by four paws!
Ellie, a writer new to the Chicago area, was diagnosed with OCD at age 3. She hopes to educate others about her condition and end the stigma against mental illness.